


For Sale

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: AU, Historical, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-03
Updated: 2006-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-05 17:43:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victorian rent boy Elijah finds himself a customer. Because, you know, I think Bizzy deserves historical slightly literary porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Sale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abundantlyqueer](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=abundantlyqueer).



"Spare a tuppence, sir?"

Orlando shook his head briskly, tugging the brim of his hat down and continuing on. It was a misty evening, and fog hung around the streetlamps, casting a sulphurous yellow haze at intervals along the London streets. It had been a bad day's work, and more of the same at the gentleman's club he sometimes visited for a brandy and a cigar. Insults to his character were never taken lightly, and Orlando wanted nothing more than to be in his bed, alone, indulging in eight hours' respite from the world.

Turning the corner from the Fulham Road, Orlando was forced to cross a street he generally avoided even during the daytime, his normal direction having been blocked by a street riot he wished to avoid. Fortunately, not many young men were out tonight, and even the prostitutes seemed to have sought friendlier avenues to sell their services.

There was, however, a lone man on the corner, and as Orlando came nearer he made as if to approach. He looked to be little threat, lean and of insubstantial height, perhaps even a boy—his age being difficult to ascertain from his appearance. When they met, a metre apart in the road, the boy smiled slowly, some knowledge behind his eyes, and Orlando mentally added several years to his age.

"Only a finny, sir. Only the best for you, sir," he added with an almost condescending leer. Orlando felt immediately uncomfortable, no doubt in his mind as to what the boy was selling and wanting to get away as quickly as possible.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he insisted, making to move on and careful to avoid eye contact until Elijah cut him off, sticking a foot out in his path and forcing him to stop.

"I spot a Mandrake from a mile away, sir, it's a special talent of mine, see," he said with a little smirk, ducking his head slightly until he forced Orlando to meet his eyes by instinct, the older man catching the sarcasm immediately in the cerulean.

"I really don't think…"

"Only a finny, sir, for the night if you want it," the prostitute offered, refusing to look away. "I'm very good."

"I'm sure you are but… how old are you?" Orlando asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Eighteen, sir, but I can play for younger if you like," he offered with a grin.

Orlando frowned, seeing the innocence beneath the layers of dirt and experience—though perhaps that too was a ruse. "No, no," he quickly objected with a shudder. "I… what is your name?"

"Elijah," the boy answered simply. "But you can call me whatever suits your fancy."

"Elijah, I'm not… I don't pay…"

"Well that won't do," Elijah responded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I mean… if you need a place to sleep, I…" he paused, not sure why the hell he wasn't hurrying down the street and leaving this vagrant where he lay.

"Yes?" Elijah prompted, his eyes twinkling slightly.

"It's not a large bed, but I can spare it for the night," he offered, eyes fixed firmly now on his boots. "Only the night."

Elijah laughed, and the sound was eerie in the hollow evening. "I never stay for more than a night," he confided with a little leer, and Orlando felt distinctly uncomfortable.

"This way," he instructed, his tone brusque, walking quickly with his hands jammed in his pockets, trusting Elijah to keep up. The young man did, of course, with quick shuffling steps to match Orlando's longer strides, and the rest of the walk passed in silence until they reached Orlando's rooms.

He hesitated on the stair, for what was he doing, inviting this strange young man, practically an overgrown urchin, to his flat, willing the youth to rob him blind? But something compelled him to continue, to turn the key in the lock, and to allow the boy to follow as he lit the woodstove.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, taken by a sudden burst of altruism to avoid the inevitability of the night, of the fact that eventually he would have to undress and it would be difficult to avoid the temptation of the pale-skinned youth, the saucy boy who offered such delights for only a fiver and a place to sleep.

Shaking his head to clear it of indelicate thoughts, he turned away from the stove to question the youth, who had given no answer, again, but he stopped dead when he saw him, trousers kicked aside and shirt drawn over his head, exposing pale skin unimpeded by underclothes and a shamelessly swelling erection, a dark pink colour from which it was impossible for Orlando to tear his eyes.

"A bite after and breakfast and you can have it for free," he offered, his eyes slightly dark as he lifted his arms out to the side, exposing himself to Orlando's gaze. He didn't miss, of course, the way Orlando's eyes locked on his groin or the way a hint of pink rose in the man's cheeks.

"I'm not sure…" Orlando murmured, wanting to bolt but unable to, it having been so long since a man—a boy—had given himself so willingly.

"All you have to do is take," Elijah purred seductively, turning on a charm that had clearly been used on many a punter in the past but at this point, as Elijah stepped forward and smoothed a hand up Orlando's jaw, the thumb brushing over his ear, Orlando didn't give a damn. He pressed his lips to Elijah's—hard—and the boy moaned.

"Get on the bed," he whispered, a growl, rougher than he had intended but Elijah smiled and obeyed immediately, backing up slowly to give Orlando a chance to more fully peruse his body before he sat gracefully at the foot of the twin and then scooted backwards so that he was lying along the length of it.

The boy's body was masculine, but still did not seem quite fully developed. Perhaps it was malnourishment, or just his build, but the curve of Elijah's shoulder blade and the arch of his spine, the little bits of baby fat still evidenced on his skin despite visible ribs, suggested youth to Orlando. Of course, the cock now hanging hard and heavy to one side did nothing of the sort, nor did the dark nest of curly brown hair that framed it, all lewd and dirty and calling up primal urges in Orlando to bury his face in the sweet masculine scent and suck.

He whimpered slightly, a pained gasp, and Elijah just grinned. He was caught.

"Come here," Elijah purred, beckoning with the curl of two fingers, and he instantly obeyed, ending up on his knees between Elijah's feet, the look in his eyes both frightened and desperate. Elijah, however, remained self-assured. "Bend down. Kiss me. From my feet to my cock," he commanded, and Orlando thought he detected the hint of a more educated accent when Elijah let himself go, maybe a higher-born boy forced by circumstance to this lot in life. He did not give himself to pondering the matter, however, for the command made him inexplicably harder, spine curving without thought until he was bending low enough to press his lips to Elijah's instep, not minding the slightly acrid taste of sweat and firmly caressing the soft skin with slightly chapped lips before moving onward.

Elijah growled low in his throat, encouragingly, as Orlando continued, lightly biting an ankle, experimenting with little licks along the curve of the calf, downy hairs not quite as dark or noticeable as his own tickling his lips and making him hum under his breath with quickly coiling excitement. He lifted Elijah's calf with both hands, eagerly sucked on the soft skin at the back of his knee with a tilted head, and then grinned when Elijah gasped, suddenly feeling control of the situation begin to ebb and flow in his direction.

After repeating his ministrations in near-perfect symmetry on the other leg, he continued upwards, anointing each inner thigh quite thoroughly with his tongue, sucking hard at intervals not to bruise but simply to arouse, working up towards his prize. When he was high enough, Elijah's fingers wound tightly in his curls, and he pulled with both hands until Orlando finally wrapped his lips around Elijah's cock, pulling slightly with the teeth carefully covered, suckling on the head in a way that suggested no prior experience yet made Elijah moan all the same.

"Harder," Elijah demanded in a breathless gasp, and Orlando found himself selfishly wondering if Elijah was like this with every man he met, if Orlando was in any way special. He assumed not, as he hollowed his cheeks and let the thick column in his mouth slip a little further down, but he could entertain a fantasy. It was, after all, what one did when taking a whore to his bed, was it not?

Elijah's hands were tightening in Orlando's hair, and his breathing was becoming more ragged. Orlando realised a second before it happened that Elijah was going to come, but the hands in his hair gave him no choice but to swallow the salty flood that filled his mouth, unfamiliar but not altogether unpleasant. He felt, ironically, like a whore, as he swallowed it down and pulled off of Elijah's cock, wiping away a few missed drops with the back of his hand. Elijah just grinned and tugged him down by the shirt collar before he could protest, kissing him in a way that was incredibly dirty for being only a kiss and left no doubt as to what they were engaging in.

As Elijah licked and sucked and chased the taste of his own come out of Orlando's mouth, his hands became engaged elsewhere, working open Orlando's trousers and the laces of his undergarments until finally he emerged with his treasure, caressing the hard flesh in hands, giving it a few idle strokes before he pulled suddenly away from the kiss. The look in his eyes was both feral and intoxicating as he pulled his own legs up and back, spread wide for access.

Orlando stared at the man as if in a trance, and when Elijah nodded, his eyes dropped quickly to the tight little pucker, the entrance to the rent boy's body that he so desired to breach but was suddenly frightened of violating. A queer notion, to be sure, but Orlando felt it all the same, and it was not until Elijah reached down with his own hand, first sucking wetly on and then plunging two fingers inside his arse, that he resolved to do it.

"My God, you're beautiful," he murmured, taking his cock in his own hand as he bent and bit the boy's nipple, hard from the slight chill of the not-yet-fully-warmed room. He smiled when Elijah's back arched hard, and he gently tugged on Elijah's wrist, urging the fingers away, anxious to get on with his task now that he had chosen it. Licking his own palm thoroughly, not wanting to hurt the boy, he slicked his cock with saliva and then repeated the motion, ensuring it was plenty wet before he finally lined up, pushing into Elijah's body with a loud groan, the passage loose and warm as a consequence of the boy's orgasm.

Orlando had to squeeze his eyes shut tight and clench his fists to hold back at first, both from the desire to pound into the boy and the desire to come, but he refrained, instead biting down on the nearest thing he could find—which happened to be Elijah's left earlobe.

"Yes!" Elijah gasped, and Orlando grinned, a bit mischievously himself now, proud to have found one of Elijah's spots.

"Beautiful boy," he murmured, raking his teeth around the curl of the ear as he drew back carefully and then thrust deeply inside again with a little more force, holding Elijah steady by the thighs.

"Not a boy," Elijah whimpered in protest, though the comment's effectiveness was lost in the way his body shuddered and bucked against Orlando's, letting him further in as the man continued to tease at his ear, now sucking lightly on the lobe.

"What happened to 'I can play for younger?'" Orlando murmured, though he didn't really mean it, drawing back and pushing in quicker this time, harder, jabbing against the spot inside Elijah that made him moan and his soft cock twitch, beginning once again to fill.

"That was…" Elijah gasped, "…before."

Orlando paused briefly, deep inside Elijah, and drew his hands up Elijah's sides, the boy's legs wrapping instinctively around Orlando's waist as his hands came to cup Elijah's face gently, their eyes meeting. Orlando saw nothing there but honesty, and he gasped in spite of himself, his hips executing a quick roll-and-stab that made Elijah moan and grab at Orlando's back, short nails scratching exquisitely to either side of his spine.

"Yes," Orlando murmured, repeating the movement, establishing a rhythm as he balanced on his elbows and caressed Elijah's face as he fucked him. "Come undone for me, beautiful."

And Elijah didn't dismiss his words as trite or peculiar, he just opened up, let Orlando have him until his cock ached and he could no longer hold back, pulling the boy along with him with a few quick and almost painfully hard strokes to his just-hardened cock.

Afterwards, they lay panting and gasping, and Orlando felt a seize of panic in his chest, palpable and hard, but Elijah pressed a single kiss to his breastbone before falling asleep, snuggling into Orlando's arms, and he had to believe that it would be okay.


End file.
